


The Other Side - An Orchard of Trees

by mangocianamarch



Series: The Anders Files [1]
Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Canon - TV, Canon Compliant, Canon Het Relationship, Canon Relationship, F/M, Mentions of Blood, POV First Person, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangocianamarch/pseuds/mangocianamarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"An Orchard of Trees" from Anders' point of view.</p><p>Between his girlfriend being murdered in his apartment, his youngest brother's girlfriend becoming his new destined partner, his little brother trying to woo his assistant and his eldest brother still being an overbearing cunt, Anders has way too much to deal with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came about after I'd spent way too long watching and re-watching the season 3 premiere of "The Almighty Johnsons." You watch something enough times, you start to pick up on different things that you didn't notice were there the first time. Like feels. A whole bunch of them. This was the only way I thought I could express those feels I got about Anders after this first episode. Expect similar treatment for the rest of the season - or for as long as Anders is around.

I haven't been sleeping well.

I haven't been sleeping well _at all_.

Usually, that's not a problem, not if the lack of sleep has been caused and/or spent between a pair of hot legs, but that hasn't been the case. Not for a while.

Axl had stared daggers at me, as if somehow his girlfriend getting Idunn was _my_ fault, like _I_ had somehow willed it to happen. Please, I barely _know_ the girl. Pretty sure she hates me or something. Well, _did_.

“I'm yours,” she said.

Fuck that. Seems strange, in retrospect, to feel that way, but really. Fuck that. I don't want her. I don't.

 _I don't_.

Especially not since the only reason _she's_ Idunn is because Helen isn't Idunn anymore.

Fuck, Helen isn't _anything_ anymore, other than a bleeding body on my kitchen floor.

Ugh. No. She's not there anymore. The body anyway. The blood's still there. I tried, I really did. I tried to get close, I just couldn't.

I barely even remember coming back to the flat after the whole Gaia thing. I had half-expected Helen to be there at the door, smiling that ridiculously cheery smile, dropping me a line or two and then dragging me to the bedroom. Instead there she'd been, lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood, an arrow sticking out of her, her eyes wide open but not seeing the ceiling they're staring at.

She was trying to protect me – protect _us_ – when it happened. And Natalie just...right in the chest...

Helen had looked right at me. _Right_ at me as she fell, and she had landed with a heavy thud that still kind of echoes everytime I pass by the kitchen.

I remember nearly fainting when I came back that day. I remember being on the floor, staring at Helen and wondering how the hell she wasn't getting up, yelling that it was all a surprise because I had talked some bullshit about giving each other space, until finally I just started crying, because I knew she wasn't getting up anytime soon.

I definitely remember crying. Mike won't let me forget it. I was the first thing he saw when he came in through my door, after all, to take care of Helen's body. I remember him grabbing my shoulder and shaking me. “It's bloody Carmelita all over again,” he had muttered under his breath, and fuck, did I want to bash his face in. He wasn't there. He didn't see her go down. He didn't watch the life and the soul float right out of her, didn't see the light behind her eyes go out. He didn't watch her _die_. How dare he make light of this. How dare he make fun of me. How fucking dare he. He didn't understand. He never has.

I can still hear that final gasp leave her mouth as Natalie's arrow impaled her, that last exhale as she started to fall. The second I close my eyes, I see her looking back at me, asking me for help one last time. And what did I do? I ran. Of course I ran, this bitch had a fucking crossbow! Besides, if she was after me, who else could she have been after? I _had_ to tell the others, didn't I?

I hope Helen doesn't hate me for running away. I had to survive, I had to.

_You don't hate me, right? Wherever you are?_

Ironic how now that she's gone, I feel like I'm looking for her. Fucked up how even after death, she hasn't let me go.

Just like Idunn.

Fuck, speaking of Idunn...

Sober, I dream of Helen. Drunk, I dream of Gaia. Oh, and did I mention I didn't _have_ to be asleep for her to pop up in places she's not supposed to?

All I want to do is _shave_ , Gaia, fuck, do you mind not suddenly appearing in my mirror startling the ever living crap out of me, especially not when I've got a fucking electric razor up to my face?

And shit, don't look at me like that, don't _fucking_ look at me like that, that's not... _shit._

It's been hours since the whole Gaia thing, and still, nobody is over it. All right, fine, technically we can't ever be over it until the day that she _stops_ being Gaia, and isn't _that_ a scary thought, because the only way any one of us can stop being a god or goddess is...

Fuck, why does it _always_ come back to this?!

So if it's not a dead Idunn I'm seeing in my sleep, it's an alive Idunn pervading my every waking hour.

Great. Fucking great. I'm not okay with this. I'm not okay with any of this. I'm _really_ not okay.

 

\--- + --- + --- + --- + --- + --- + ---

 

Ugh, it's still there.

Of course, it's still there, I don't want to touch it, I really don't.

I can't even come close to it without feeling a need to be sick. I'm just no good with blood, I never have been. And let's not forget why it's even _there_ in the first place.

“ _Jesus, Natalie!_ ”

There's a dead body on my floor.

Blink.

Now there's just a pool of blood.

I can feel my stomach trying to force itself up my throat and out of my mouth. My brain shuts off momentarily, and whatever's keeping me running stops for what feels like an eternity. I'm weak on my knees, but I manage to clutch at the couch for support as I try to regain some sense of balance.

God, I hate blood.

I need a moment. I need to sit down.

Once on the couch though, I can't help but look back at it.

I think it's staring back at me.

Fuck you, blood, you're not my fault. _I_ didn't fire the bloody crossbow, did I? Fuck you.

Not even five minutes with my circulation back to normal, and my doorbell goes off. Swearing breathlessly, I pointedly avoid looking at the little stain on my floor as I go to open my door.

“It's done,” Mike says as soon as my door swings open, “Took care of it.”

“Hello to you too,” I snort as Mike pushes his way past me into my own living room, like _he_ owns it.

“You okay, Anders?” Olaf asks as I let him in too, “You're looking pale.”

“I'm fine,” I lie.

“Like fuck, you are,” Mike groans, “What is _that_ still doing there, Anders?”

Ah, so he's in the kitchen.

“I'm getting attached to it, actually,” I say as I resume my position on my couch, “Personally, I think it adds to the ambiance of horrifyingly painful death to the whole area. Really brings the room together, am I right?”

Mike sighs heavily, passing his hand over his face into his hair before it comes to rest on his hip, opposite his other hand. “You had _one job_ to do, _one,_ ” he tells me, pointing for emphasis, “And you couldn't manage _that_?”

“I'm no good with blood, Mike,” I reason, shrugging, “You know that.”

“I'm no good with burying bodies,” Mike replies, “but _I_ managed.”

“But you _did_ bury her, right?” I ask, because really, this is what it's all about to him, the fact that my house is a _crime scene_ , “Where no one will find her? Like it's a _hiding game_?” Because honestly, when it comes to things like this, it's _insanely_ convenient to have a god-brother whose superpower is to win at _everything_.

Mike just rolls his eyes at me. Excuse you, at least I remembered to _shave_ , like you told me to, so that no one who would've seen me with the girls would recognize me.

“Get a bucket, do your job,” Mike demands, and it's my turn to roll my eyes, “And then, you stay _far away_ from Axl and Gaia, because the last thing we need is your dick getting involved.”

My indignation gets in the way of me making a snipe about anything else my dick could be getting involved in or with.

“I have no desire to go there, Mike,” I reassure him, “The last thing I need in my life is another clingy goddess.”

Olaf frowns. He actually _frowns_ at me. “ _And_ she's Axl's girlfriend,” he reminds me, as if I really needed it.

“Well, _that_ too!” I promise, “Especially.”

Is Mike shaking his head at me?

Mike's shaking his head at me. Shut up, Mike, you don't know the _half_ of it.

“Clean up your mess,” Mike grits at me. He leads Olaf out as they unceremoniously leave. As I watch them walk off, my eyes land on the blood again.

Oh God, acid reflux.

Wait no, it's not.

I turn away, closing my eyes in a vain attempt to not remember that it's still there, that I have to clean it off, that it's probably gonna take all fucking night, mainly because I'll be puking my guts out every ten seconds.

Isn't cleaning the victim's blood something the _killer_ does in an attempt to cover his tracks?

This is not my mess.

This is _not_ my mess.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders goes to work the next day and tries to act like everything's normal.

As predicted, I barely slept.

Cleaning up was as horrible as I thought it was going to be, and I'm still surprised I didn't actually faint. Although never let it be said that I didn't at least come close.

When I finally did get some sleep, I dreamt of Gaia. Gaia coming over. Gaia in my bed. Gaia screaming my name. Gaia dead on the kitchen floor...

I burn the rags, like Mike told me to. Honestly, I can't help but question the guy. You'd think maybe he's killed someone before and had to cover his tracks, he's too good at this. Told me to shave, buried the body himself, made me burn the rags with the blood so there wouldn't be a trace, pretty sure he's the one who came up with the plan about Natalie's hotel room too...tsk tsk, Mike.

Okay, fine, it's actually all a good thing. The fact that there are people who know that both Helen and Natalie were both in my apartment before their sudden disappearances gnaws at me. It makes me the prime suspect, especially since the actual suspect was apparently blown to smithereens and the weapon that killed Helen has gone missing. I keep half-expecting my phone to go off or for the authorities to come barging in through my door to arrest me or something.

To recap: one dead woman, one missing, neither of them my actual fault. Not deliberately, anyway.

Blink.

Shit, I thought the blood was back for a second there. Shit.

\---+---+---+---+---+---+---

I know I'm a little late to work, but Dawn should be more worried if I'm ever early. Or on time. Fuck, we're FlexiTime, she just likes to come in at some ungodly early morning hour because she's got nothing better to do. She _does_ live alone with just her cat, after all.

...Fuck, the door's unlocked.

I open the door slowly, and peer around the office. Empty. Maybe. A relief? Sort of. Dawn should be here by now...

"...Dawn?"

Not at her table, not at mine, not by the coff--

"Anders!"

I nearly jump out of my skin. " _Don't_ do that!" I demand. I can feel my heart trying to burst its way out of my chest.

"What?" Dawn asks, confused.

"Say my name in a terse fashion from behind me," I clarify. I set my bag down.

"You look better," Dawn remarks, not even looking at me, "Without the beard."

"What beard? I never had a beard." Automatic answer. Maybe it came out a little too quick?

Dawn eyes me briefly. "If you say so..." She replies. She goes back to her papers.

My heart rate has barely slowed down. "Hey," I start, somewhat tentatively, "Has anyone been...looking for me?"

"Yes," Dawn answers with a slight sigh.

_Fuck._ "Did they say what they wanted?"

"Not us," she says, sparing some time to grimace at me.

"...What? Make sense."

"Those oil people Helen lined up," Dawn tells me, indicating the documents in her hands, "They've changed their mind."

Oh. Sweet Jesus, thank God that's all it is.

"You need to get her to call them," finishes Dawn.

Well damn, I should've expected the topic of Helen wouldn't just die like that.

...Wait, wrong choice of words.

"Yeeeeah," I say as Dawn walks off to her table by the door, "No, that's not gonna happen."

"Why not?" Dawn calls back.

"Well, let's just say Helen isn't what you'd call 'around' anymore, okay?" Haha, I'm so funny. Oh, the cleverness of me.

"And which one of you came to your senses?" Dawn asks, reappearing, and none too smug either.

Did she just...? Oh, the cleverness of her. "You have a cold streak, Dawn," I commend, and it actually makes me smile a bit. This girl...

"And Natalie?"

Ah, the other white elephant. "What about her?"

"From Lenders," says Dawn, as if I needed reminding, "Seeing as how we're no longer reaping the earth for money, we kinda need their business."

"Yeah, Natalie's also gone," I say, as if that explains everything.

"Where?"

"Away!" Dammit, Dawn.

"How do you know this?" Dawn asks, arms still crossed in front of her.

Sharp, Dawn. Real sharp. Too sharp sometimes. Like now. What are you, private investigator?

(God forbid.)

"Dawn," I sigh, knowing what I have to do, walking up as close as I can without invading her personal space, "Natalie and Helen are gone."

I drop my voice, and Bragi takes over.

" _They're never coming back. In fact, they might have gone away together to go hiking, because you've always suspected that they were a bit like that._ "

And for good measure...

" _And if anyone asks about me, about them, I was with you at the time. Never mention their names again. Are we clear on this?_ "

Her eyes are slightly unfocused, staring right at me. She gives a small nod. "Sure," she says.

"Good."

I walk back to my table, relieved.

"You know," Dawn pipes up, "I always thought that they were a bit--"

"Who were, Dawn?" I interrupt, looking up, fully intending to give her another blast if I had to --

Only to see Gaia standing there instead of Dawn.

I do a double-take. What the fuck.

Gaia in silver silk. Smoky eyes. Dark red lips. "Come hither" look on her stunning face.

FUCK.

I give my eyes a good blink, shutting them tight and reaching between them to try and get them to focus.

But when I open my eyes again, Dawn's still standing there, arms crossed, looking mildly irritated.

"You know," she says in answer to the question I had left hanging. She walks back to her table, and I try to recompose myself, shaking my head, both to try and clear it and in disbelief.

\---+---+---+---+---+---+---

I'm in absolutely no mood to eat lunch. I need sleep. I can't concentrate on my work in the state I'm in. Or Dawn's work, as it were. Whatever. I can't concentrate.

I lie back on the couch, and when I close my eyes, my entire body feels the relief. I let out a laboured breath, thankful for the peace...

_"Jesus, Natalie!"_

_"Abomination..."_

_"She is DEAD! Fuck!"_

_"It is I, Idunn."_

_"...And she's Axl's girlfriend."_

_Knock knock knock._

I'm almost thankful. Almost.

I look over to the door just as it swings open, and Ty steps through, timid as you please. He flashes Dawn a tentative smile, greets her. Dawn is nice and polite, she usually is.

"I just came to see Anders," Ty says haltingly.

"He's over there," I hear Dawn say.

"Yes, I see him," says Ty.

Haha, Ty. Well, get on over here, you're scaring her.

"Um, while I'm here..."

Oh, for _fuck's_ sake, Ty.

"On the off-chance, I was wondering if you'd like to go get a drink after work."

Ty, stop. Ty, no. Down, boy.

"...Today?" Says poor, backed-into-a-corner Dawn.

"If that works," Ty replies.

Oh my God, Tyrone. Secondhand embarassment. Can you stop?

Awww, listen to Dawn still trying to be polite when she turns him down. It's okay, Dawn, I feel ya.

"Maybe another day," Ty tries.

Are you shitting me right now? Here I come to save the Dawn.

"Dawn, I need you to go get me another coffee, please," I call from the couch, "Immediately. And treat yourself while you're there."

"On it," Dawn calls back,  and she actually sounds relieved. You're welcome, Dawn.

"Ty, what are you doing?" I ask when Dawn's closed the door behind her.

"Asking Dawn out for a drink," says Ty, as if I didn't just witness that embarrassing public display of obsession.

"'Creeping her out' is the answer," I correct him.

"Uh, no I wasn't," answers Ty.

"You're nowhere near the 'ask her out for a drink' stage!" I tell him, because honestly, he should have known that; it's only been, what, a few days since he got 'wiped from her memory?'

"But she said she'd think about it," Ty replies, giving me a smug smile.

"No no, her lips said that," says I, because my little brother needs to be told these things by an expert, "Her eyes said, 'Keep away from me, scary man.' Back it up, bro." I try to dismiss him after that, so that he's gone by the time Dawn comes back.

Honestly, it's a shame. Ty's a good guy, and he really does like Dawn, and things are just a lot better (for me) when both my brother and my Girl Friday are happy. But wow, does Ty need my help, he's going much too fast. He's going to end up scaring her off instead.

But Ty's not leaving. Why isn't he leaving?

"Actually, I did come to see if you were okay," Ty says, "After the whole Helen thing."

Ah. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?

"No, I'm _not_ okay!" I tell him, "I spent half the night cleaning her blood off my kitchen floor!" Thanks a lot, Ty, look what you made me say out loud.

"I meant about how you're feeling," Ty answers, sounding sympathetic, "About losing her?"

I'm missing something here, aren't I? "And if Mike has done his job properly," I reply, "hopefully, no one will ever _find_ her."

"God business," Ty concludes with a little nod as he starts to walk away, "Glad I'm out of it."

"No no no, not quite." I don't know why I didn't think of this before. "From your knowledge of Helen, is there anyone likely to come looking for her?"

Ty thinks about it a while. "Well, uh, she was an only child, both her parents died, well, when she was in her teens, uh, she never really settled anywhere, or with anyone, moved around a lot--"

"Yeah okay, so I'm guessing that no one's missing her _right now_."

"I would guess not. Apart from you."

"Obviously." Obviously. "Hey, good on you for finding all that out in the short time you were with her."

Ty gives me a strange look. "I learned all that on our first date."

"Oh man," I say as I'm lying back down on the couch, relieved, "All we did was screw."

Ty sighs, but whatever. If no one's missing her (apart from me, obviously), then no one's going to come looking for her. If no one's going to come looking for her, no one's going to come looking for me. Fuck yes.

 

 

 

 


End file.
